Thom’s Thursday Thoughts

For Halloween, Thom did indeed wear his Santa hat (above). For my costume, he accompanied me across the street to Ricky’s where a long line of procrastinators assembled outside, all hoping to find a last minute costume, all vowing to plan ahead next year. After twenty minutes in line we spent another fifteen minutes inside, feeling overwhelmed amidst disorganized rows of sombreros, rubber masks and discounted Lady Gaga costumes (so last year). I came across a Dia de los Muertos mask, which had been chipped at the lip and cost $35.99. More than I wanted to pay, but also cheaper than the rest of the options. I was about to buy it, but then thought: Why not just do it myself?

Back at home, Thom blasted show tunes on Spotify and made Halloween brownies from the Joy of Cooking using this recipe. I began to assemble my costume: I changed into a red lace dress and fashioned a crown of red roses purchased from the bodega around the corner. Then I painted my face with pale concealer and smeared dark rings around around my eyes, using heaps of cheap drugstore eyeliner. I referred to various photos on the internet and as a final touch, drew on my forehead a small upside-down heart, painted red. You can see the final result, along with our other Halloween guests, here.

When I was finished painting my face, our first guest was almost here and I leapt out of the room to show Thom the finished death mask. I prepared myself for a ton of compliments on my artistry.

“Whoa,” said Thom, “Whoa. You look so creepy.”

I beamed as much as I could through my painted Mexican death mask, “Thanks! I can’t believe I did it myself!”

He peered at my forehead just as the doorbell rang, pointing at the heart.

“Yeah but what’s with the little ball sack on your forehead?”

I thought then about killing Thom and going as a murderer, but he smelled like brownies so I let it go.

Anyway, Thom’s thoughts this week:

Before writing this, I asked Thom if I could use the photo above.
“Only if you put it next right next to the one of you.”
Thom is referring to this photo, which he took two weeks ago and which I refuse to have on this blog.
Encouraged by our friends who commended Thom on his “nature photography,” Thom said, “I want to submit it to the New York Times. Or what if I buy a billboard in New York and put that picture on it? That would probably generate blog traffic.”
“No,” I said.

As of this writing, Thom is on the Acela en route to D.C. for a business trip. He will go to his meeting then have dinner at Armand’s, which to him is the best pizza in all the land, and come back tomorrow afternoon, which means I’ll be sleeping alone tonight.

Which is fine, since, thanks to Thom, I’ve been reacquainted with Rowan Atkinson. Thom has gotten me hooked on an old British sitcom called “The Thin Blue Line,” starring Atkinson (best known in the States, unfortunately, as Mr. Bean) who plays fuddy-duddy Inspector Raymond Fowler to his team of hapless police officers. Sadly, there are only two seasons.

Seeing my enthusiasm for “The Thin Blue Line” and not at alarmed by my growing crush on Rowan Atkinson, Thom has downloaded the first season of “The Black Adder,” which we will get into together once he’s back.

Lastly, a few more of Thomisms from this past week:

On an itchy bug bite on my arm that’s been there for the past two weeks: “Maybe it’s a parasite. You’re like a poor African.”
“Man, it sucks to have crappy health insurance,” I said.
“Maybe we can find you a nice witch doctor.”

After looking around during an early dinner at The Smith: “Yeah looks like we’re dining with the Olds tonight.”

A few minutes later, after I watched an elderly woman dining by herself, I asked Thom if he’d ever, if widowed, do the same: “Me? No. I’d come out with a pack of bitches.”

On my having to write Thomisms down as soon as I hear them: “No don’t do that. Your bad memory is the only thing that protects my privacy.”